


The Hounds of Baker Street

by thescienceofsherlolly



Series: Sherlollicious [26]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Dogs, Domestic Fluff, F/M, Married Life, Parenthood, and a baby, domestic sherlolly and dogs, that's it really
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-06-14
Updated: 2017-06-14
Packaged: 2018-11-14 04:53:52
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 889
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11200848
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/thescienceofsherlolly/pseuds/thescienceofsherlolly
Summary: Sherlock brings home a fourth dog.





	The Hounds of Baker Street

**Author's Note:**

  * For [VioletJersey](https://archiveofourown.org/users/VioletJersey/gifts), [stephannieissues](https://archiveofourown.org/gifts?recipient=stephannieissues).



> a combination of two prompts received on tumblr by @violetjersey and @stephannieissues ♥

Mozart the Basset Hound was the first. A case of theirs involving stolen jewellery led them to him chained up and left to starve in the back garden of the suspect’s abandoned property. Molly had insisted she take him on, promising to care for him. Sherlock had refused, explaining the adorable creature would be more comfortable at Baker Street. An argument ensued, ending when both parties agreed to move in together to care for Mozart, strictly for his benefit of course.

Next was Sam, the Red Setter. Sherlock had brought him to Baker Street claiming the boisterous animal had followed him and that ‘we might as well keep him, dear’. Molly laughed as the excited pooch jumped into her lap, licking her everywhere he could reach. She was too happy to be mad.

German Shephard, Biscuit, was the third and what Molly Hooper-Holmes insisted was the final. They hadn’t intended to keep her but once their infant daughter had set her on eyes on the big doggie, there was no getting rid of her. Clara even demanded to name her, her limited vocabulary offering up ‘Bikkit’.

Life with the three beautiful dogs, one bad-tempered tabby, and her gorgeous family was perfect for Molly, everything she’d ever wanted; many night she’d fallen asleep wrapped around Sherlock only to wake up surrounded by the two big dogs with Mozart sleeping on the floor beside the bed – she always lifted him to join the fun. This morning was slightly different.

It was what felt like the middle of the night when Molly was awoken, a snuffling, wet nose prodding her inquisitively. Not Biscuit, she usually spread out at the bottom of the bed, cutting off the circulation to her feet. Sam liked Sherlock’s side of the bed – many a night she’d awoken to him huffing and mumbling about checking the baby. Could be Sherlock, he often felt amorous at odd times of the night, especially if he’d solved a case. She yawned and reached for the lamp, flooding the room with dim light. Rubbing her eyes, she blinked at the newcomer sitting in her lap; the nose that had been poking her belonged to a tiny Yorkshire terrier, its tail wagging happily as it looked at her.

“Well?” Sherlock said, bounding over to join her on the bed; he shucked out of his jacket and sat beside her on the bed, “what do you think?”

Molly, who was busy tickling the newcomer’s ears, looked up at her unbelievable husband, “you didn’t wake me up at two am because you were in the mood.”

“Not exactly, no…” he smirked, joining her in stroking the responsive Yorkie, “I know you said-“

“No more dogs. How hard is it to understand?” Molly supplied with a smile, unable to take her eyes off the tiny animal. Sherlock nodded bashfully.

“I found Ghost in the boot of a car, about to be dumped over a bridge. He’s since only responded to me. We have a clean, safe, friendly home for him. They all adore Clara; what’s the problem?”

“We have too many dogs already,” even as Molly spoke, she knew Ghost was already part of the family; he licked his nose, stretching out on her lap and looking up at her cutely. She had to bite her lip to keep from cooing at him.

“How many dogs is ‘too many dogs’, though, Molly,” Sherlock asked, brushing her hair aside to kiss her cheek fondly. Before either of them could say another word, the sound of crying came from the baby monitor on the bedside table; the four dogs looked up in alarm as Sherlock rolled his eyes, “hold that thought. We need a third opinion.”

Molly chuckled as Sherlock left the room, reappearing a moment later with the ruffled one-year-old, a dummy in her mouth and favourite stuffed monkey toy in her fist. Her curls stood on end and she rubbed her eyes with her free fist; she reached for her smitten mother when she was within reach. Cuddling with Mummy and Daddy and the sniffly doggies was her favourite time of day.

“What do you think of Ghost, Clara?” Sherlock whispered into his baby girl’s hair, gently taking her tiny hand to sweep gently through the new dog’s fur. Clara spluttered out a laugh through her dummy, babbling happily. The detective looked at his wife smugly, “well, there you go.”

Molly chuckled, running a hand through Clara’s unkempt hair, “she knows best, of course.”

The following morning, the Hooper-Holmes’ brought Ghost out into the main flat; after he’d exhausted himself running amok in his new surroundings and scoffing down his breakfast, he passed out on his back in front of the fire. Clara sat beside him with her storybook, babbling out nonsense as she tucked him in with her blanket. Sherlock and Molly watched the events from the sofa, sipping from coffee cups, the latter resting her head on the former’s chest.

“We have more dogs than children,” Molly muttered thoughtfully, watching Mozart wander over to Clara, nudging her hand for a fuss. Sherlock chuckled, replacing his coffee cup on the table and pulling Molly tightly to him.

“Well, we’ll just have to have more children.”

Molly looked up at him, grinning, “yeah?”

“Yeah,” he sealed the promise with a soft kiss. Life truly was perfect.


End file.
